`Apprentice Assassin (HC part 11)

By JS2007

Helen had only really killed twice in cold blood, her other numerous kills were ‘accidents’, or to save herself or others she loved, so ‘self-defence’, not murder, or so her whirling mind told herself over and over again, and her three kills in the fighting ring had been, well, just unfortunate. And that was ‘Gin’, the silver haired teenage Japanese assassin, alto ego of the college girl Arimi, not Helen, the cafe au lait skinned, Black Asian, red headed, American student. ‘Helen’ had even let that Russian assassin live in Amsterdam, and only scarred her face for life so she would know to stay silent. She was not a bad person really, and she needed to do this to free herself and her son and husband, so it was necessary, it wasn’t just cold blooded murder of a girl lying sedated in a hospital bed. But tears were flooding down her face as she looked down at the unconscious, severely injured young woman, and the large pillow her mother had put into her hands.

She cursed her mother who must have planned all this, she could not believe Fuso knew her so little for him to have come up with this idea. With the aid of her ‘slave’, the University Principles assistant, and that old letch Professor Nakimura, who had fallen completely under the tall women’s spell, they must have arranged for Akiko to come to Shanghai to meet her death as ‘Arimi’, so freeing ‘Helen’ once and for all from her fears of discovery. She could not blame Fuso, who must have handled all the work in Japan, selecting a girl who looked so much like her, and could be trained to fight like her, but for Akiko to be a Siren meant she must have really angered someone and been fleeing Japan herself for her to take such a risk. Fuso must have searched all across the Yakuza colleges and gangs to save her and his son, to find a woman who fitted the profile and then arrange for her a nasty incident so that she would need to flee for her life, so that she would grasp at anything to save herself, and not think too clearly about the motives. Her mother had told her It had actually been a mere chance that Fuso’s father had mentioned the girl in connection to a scandal involving Fuso’s aunt, who had been forced into a marriage with another Yakuza to seal a blood pact between the two rival gangs. Her marriage was loveless, but she had found compensation with this girl, but whereas the Hachiman was expected to have mistresses , an official concubine, lovers as well as a wife, the wife of the boss was expected to be faithful only to him. Ms Mak had informed on her lovers sister, and Fuso had then taken great risks, and endangered death from both Clans if caught, rescuing Akiko. Helen realised he really did love her and their young son deeply, he had risked everything for her, but that love however did not make her feel any better now, knowing she must murder the girl.

‘But I am not a Murderer’, she screamed into the night.
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Then…

It had all started after the end of her conceded fight against the Korean. The KTech College Principle’s anger knew no bounds and added to this was the fact that he had quickly worked out what had been happening around the College. The rivalry between the different educational streams of students, each specialising in their own criminal careers, had always been used to divide and rule, and it had mystified the lecturers as to who would have the physical abilities to climb up vertical walls and through air-ducts to avoid surveillance, and then have the technical ability to hack the computers and sensing devices. Fraternisation between the jocks and nurds was frowned upon to avoid the dream matchup of a tech wizard, and a fearless athlete who would never say no to whatever challenge. In Fuso and Arimi their nightmare had materialised.

When the pair had trashed the Principal’s office with their frantic rutting he had become obsessed with finding out who the phantom couple were, and now he knew. Due to his connections he could not really touch Fuso, but Arimi on the other hand was a brothel raised no body. Even though she was a celebrity and even nationally known on the dark web, she was not Clan raised, and had no blood or loyalty ties or fealty, but was a freelancer, paying her way by her fight winnings and sponsorship . On her discharge from the medical wing she had found that she was now to be considered as College ‘property’, and found to her disgust she was scheduled for ‘comfort duties’. However this had backfired, none of the lecturers were stupid enough to risk the wrath of a known homicidal maniac, and that was if they were brave enough to confront the Dojo Mistresses anger if they dared to try and ‘use’ her star fighter. However it was the stopping of all her drug regime and banning from the regular morning health spa and make-over visits that started arguments among all the faculty professors as this had never been done before.

For Arimi her shame became intense as her old injuries had started to show through within days of returning to classes. The laughter of the girls from the Espionage, Intrusion, Surveillance and Technical, education steams had haunted her ever since, and even the lowest ranked students, those training for the Sex Industry, had dared to look her full in the face and mock. And then the Principle had ordered her to attend the College swimming gala. While three quarters of the College laughed and giggled she had fled from the poolside in floods of tears, only for some spiteful bitches to follow her into the changing areas, laughing and spitting on her. That had caused the riot only tear gas and baton rounds had stopped as the whole fight and combat student body had revolted as one in support of their fight captain.

Eventually it had been Fuso who had found her nearly an hour later, curled up in a ball, sobbing her heart out on the tile floor in the swimming pool changing rooms changing area. He had covered her in his College uniform jacket and led her still weeping back to his room, and so they went into hiding. Having hidden in various friends rooms for nearly a week the two young lovers were running out of safe places and Arime’s condition was getting worse, high fevers due to her drug withdrawal and then the pain from all her injuries. Then Fuso slipped out and left her in Miki’s care for a couple of days, but luckily Fuso had returned quickly with a smile on his face.

‘I have returned with my father. He has an offer to make to Principle-san that he cannot refuse’, the small boy whispered into her ear as he gently caressed her tormented, naked, shivering body. An hour later she was in the College main office, but this time the Principle was not for once in charge. A small man she did not recognise was explaining the details of a rather special job and a rather special team that he would need to do it, and her lover was sitting obediently at her side. The boss of the Tokyo Asoka Yakuza was not about to let any teachers likes or dislikes get in the way of his requirements, and the payment of full reinstatement to student status for Arimi was a price so insignificant he laughed when Fuso insisted on it.

‘First come back from Paris alive my son, before demanding the price.’ and then he added, ‘You do realise this girl has already at least four official kills to her name, and many more hinted at. Mr Ko who is the head of the ‘Special Projects’ section here at the College says she is easily his top trainee, and at present is ranked in the top five apprentice ‘Specialists’ across all the Clans.’ The older man smiled at his youngest son, who he realised must know she was not only a top marksmen in assault shooting but also at distance too, and was one of the best for her age and experience in close combat and entry and infiltration skills. ‘Her weakness so he says is ‘pity’, and though she went through the training faster than any previous student, she has not yet killed in cold blood, and six months ago dropped out of his class’s altogether. But fortunately for her survival, she seems to find it rather too easy to kill when she needs too. ‘He patted his son on the back,’ But with you as her handler I think we may have recruited a fine young monster to our side, but remember she is a wild beast, and must be treated as one.’ The old man smiled again, but he was worried, a son of his aligned with one of the most efficient killing animals in Japan, and only loyal to the boy alone, not the Clan.

A week later in an office in Paris, 30th floor of the European HQ of a famous Japanese Company, a man who wanted to start a Clan war had to be stopped or hundreds would die across Japan. Or so they had told the apprentice assassin who they hoped would pull off the job, and who was also completely expendable if caught…

Arimi slithered across the shiny floor of the hall, keeping all her yellow coated lithe body in contact with the marble. It’s cold transferring completely through the thin skin tight spray on spandex catsuit so that her nipples were soon erect and tingling with the cold caress. Her head was bent low so the enclosing metal helmet with its IR sensors and mic was kept just above the ground. The fluorescent yellow colour of her body suit had by Fuso’s skill and technical wizardry been keyed to the all-seeing eyes of the security cameras, rendering her invisible. She had however to stay less than six inches from the floor or otherwise the old fashioned light beam detectors would discover her presence, but as she snaked her way towards the end of the entrance hall she was now gasping as her erect clit with its shinny slippery glistening sheath slid across the hard unyielding surface.

‘Concentrate, you can fuck me all you want later’, came the calm voice of Fuso in her ear. She suppressed a giggle, her 20 year old lover was monitoring her vitals and had spotted the increase in the 19 year olds heart beat and breathing even beyond its already drugged up peak.

‘Cold stone is soo, soo, soo, hard’, she sighed into the throat mike, knowing this would not only get her boy all hot and bothered, but probably get his overactive imagination working on some new sex kink for them to explore.

As she reached the end of the hall, a highly patterned carpet replaced the marble, but she had to wait a minute or so for Fuso to check the sensors installed on it and diagnose a cure.
‘Simple pressure pads in the main board room area, the wiring should be to your left’, and following his every instruction she lifted the edge of the weave with her punch dagger and installed a bypass.
‘Use the electro detector again’, he commanded, and she nearly spat back a reply, she had fitted the microchip correctly and there was no need to check her work, but this was also no place for a lovers quarrel.
‘We have a problem,’ she could hear the tension in her lovers voice even as he tried to remain calm, ‘the sensors have already been bypassed.’

Her heart beat quickened as she flooded her body with hormones and her trained reflexes snapped into focus, and it was Gin, the trainee Assassin, who risked raising her head to glance into the large room the hallway led into. By a desk a furtive figure was illuminated in the glow of a small palm top that had been connected to a terminal. The other girl was similarly coated in shinny wet look skin-tight rubber, but in a glossy pink, her naked body more painted than clothed by the spandex of the chameleon catsuit that made her and Gin invisible to the cameras. The Burglar was obviously after the company secrets the Sacho had on his Mac, but it was the other young woman’s bad luck to have stumbled into an assassination where everyone, especially a thief, was expendable.

‘Another girl, dressed like me,’ hissed Gin, realising that the reason she had had no warning was that the other girls suit not only blinded the guards cameras but must also have fooled Fuso’s feed as well. Her lover gasped and then replied.
‘Freeze frame the room camera, I’ll kill her,’ her calm almost clinical voice echoed in her ears.

Gin reaching slowly down to her hip, for her fight persona now fully in control, heart pumping, eyes dilating, adrenaline rushing out to every muscle, and slid the twelve inch bladed killing knife from its scabbard, the smooth steel slipping along her near naked yellow thigh. Easing onto the carpet she edged silently forward towards the preoccupied figure of the pink painted naked intruder. Her weapon was made for fighting but also balanced to perform as a throwing knife, and the other girls back presented a perfect target for the sharp pointed tool. Crouching she hefted the knife and swung back to throw, but even as she released the other girl, guided by some unknown sense had looked around, and with a silent yell inside her own close fitting helmet, flung herself sideways, the quivering blade shimmering passed her face to bury itself with a thunk into a book in the bookcase. The pink woman reacted like lightening, snatching a small dart gun from her belt and suddenly it was Gin who was rolling and dodging for her life as small flechettes, undoubtedly tipped with Curare or some other lethal poison hissed out of the barrel of the weapon to whistle into the carpet, wall and chair as Gin scuttled for safety.

The pink girl chased her around the room firing all the time at her cart wheeling foe. She ducked behind some potted palm trees as her enemy continued to fire repeatedly and then vaulted across a large imitation pond for the safety of the massive board room table that was in the centre of the enormous office, but as Gin dived under the oak table she had no intention of staying on the defensive. Her right arm shot out to hook around the solid table leg and her forward momentum was transferred into a pendulum swing and just as quickly as she had disappeared from the other girls view she trapiesed back out again, taking the Burglar by surprise, and kicking the legs out from underneath the other young female. With a scream the shiny pink girl crashed to the floor and Gin was on her in an instant.

As she had crashed with full force onto the prone body of the other light-weight Gin had unwound from its wrist holder a steel garrotting wire and instinctively wrapped it around the neck of the other struggling girl, pulling tightly to choke, strangle and behead the other female. The two entwined kittens now rolled across the thick carpeting as the desperate pink slithery Amazon tried to stave off her extinction. Three times the helmeted head of the other girl fired back to smash into her facemask leaving Gin dizzy and disorientated. Like the yellow coated girl the other fighter was also wearing a neck guard which slowed the action of the garrotte, but would not save her life, and she tore frantically with her gloved hands at the wire that was killing her. Gin now was glued to the back of her victim like a limpet, her slippery yellow panted naked legs entwined tightly around the other girl’s waist.

In desperation the Burglar lunged to her knees pulling a stunned Gin after her. Both girls were of similar height and weight but the adrenaline rush needed for survival gave the slightly shorter pink girl added strength as carrying her enemy she rose up and then smashed Gin’s back across the edge of the heavy table. With a scream of agony the trainee Assassin fell off the other teen’s back, but her determination to win meant that even through her pain she did not release her hold on the wire, so both schoolgirls fell entangled to the floor. Gin was pinned beneath the slick nubile form of the other naked female, flat on her back on the carpet. The Burglar twisted and writhed across her torso as her life was snuffed out, both her hands scratching at her own neck to claw at the wire and halt its constrictions. Then with a dying effort the pink kitten jack-knifed her body up, throwing her legs above her head and with all her strength crashed her firm boyish ass down onto the yellow skinned naked stomach of her would-be murderer.

The firm butt thudded home and Gin was nearly sick into her mask as the air was driven from her body as her untensed muscles were torn aside and her very womb crushed by the blow. Pain invaded her but the rush of air had left her even unable to scream. The Burglar took full advantage of the respite from the chocking wire and managed to leaver open an inch of extra space to gasp in a breath of her own as Gin’s ragged rattled croak resounded in her ears as both females lay helmeted cheek to helmeted cheek, the naked pink warrior resting full length atop the naked yellow one. Then with a scream of fury the pink form again sprung to life, the legs rolling up, and then the whole body sent flying skyward before with a yell the hard teen ass again crashed down onto the pinned body of Gin. The tight ass pounding home just above the pubic bone of the yellow painted female, bruising and crushing her eggs and tubes, This time Gin was sick, and while trying to fight the agony in her lower body was forced to drink back her own vomit or risk drowning in the mask.

The Burglar could now fight free, and unwinding the wire slipped her neck free to roll away from a spread eagled and whimpering Gin to slump rubbing her gouged throat, sucking in air weeping at the thought of her near demise.

Gin forced herself to recover quickly and spotting her Commando knife, still buried to its hilt in a book, quickly scrabbled across the carpet to retrieve the steel blade. Rubbing at her lower gut where her womb and ovaries screamed at her in protest at their busting, she staggered back to her feet. Taking a deep breath she shook her helmeted head to recover some of her senses before lunging at the now standing form of the other teen.

The pink girl vaulted onto the large table to avoid the thrust from the yellow girl, while whipping out a razor sharp switch blade from its sheath on her left arm. Gin jumped up onto the table in turn and both young females now slowly stalked each other over the polished surface exchanging thrusts and cuts as the slick spandex bodies suits glistened in the light of the full Moon shining through the board room’s large windows. A stumble from the pink girl gave the yellow trainee Assassin a chance, but to Gins dismay this had only been a feint, and her lunging arm was suddenly snatched up in a vice like grip.

As the slippery pink girl grabbed Gin right arm, stopping the blade slicing into her firm right milker, she slashed with the flick knife. Arching backwards Gin screamed with pain as the steel cut across her lower body just above her sex, but the suits nano technology quickly resealed the slash and closed the wound. Desperately she lunged at the weapon arm and managed to grab the other girl’s wrist so that now both young females were tussling atop the large table each try to force their own blade home. The teens squealed with exertion and frustration as they tried to impale the other girl with their weapon, while at the same time avoid their own disembowelment. To keep their footing they plastered the slick coated spandex catsuits together, straining to push each other back, their breast squashed flat as their whole upper bodies now came into the fight, both thrusting cunts mashing together, clit boxing to crush its enemy.

It was Gin’s already weakened stomach that eventually gave as the two nubile young females body battled. A knee lift to the other girl sex had forced the pink Amazon back but she had retaliated with a double knee lift into the bowels of the Assassin, eliciting a howl of torment from Gin, whose muscle shield was already torn asunder. The yellow girl dropped her weapon and fell back on the table clutching her busted gut. However, even in her most desperate moments years of savagery had ingrained in the young women survival skills for most situations. The pink gladiatrix launched herself at her prone victim, the switch blade aimed at the heart of its young victim, but at the last moment a yellow boot lifted up catching her squarely on her pink coated clit and flung her wailing over Gins head to land with a crash on her back, wailing with sex pain on the carpeted floor.

However the throw was the last straw for Gin’s tortured stomach muscles as pain spread out to consume her whole body and she rolled up into a ball holding herself, rolling across the polished table top and falling off the edge to land with a thud beside the other prone fighter. While Gin still sobbed, holding her busted she guts, the pink girl crawled back to her battered foe to exact revenge for her own sufferings. Bracing her right hand with her left the Burglar clawed her talons and then smacked them down onto the lower torso of the ‘would be’ Assassin. Gin jerked as if administered with an electric shock, her back arching; mouth wide in a silent scream, arms flung wide. Only a few fighters really knew how to administer a womb claw, and unfortunately for Gin the Burglar was obviously one of them. Five fingers pressed into her torso, gouging through the already shredded stomach wall, probing through the yielding muscles, tearing and ripping at the other girl’s very femininity.

The pain invaded every part of Gins nubile form, freezing her rigid in its grasp as she frothed at the mouth, teeth grinding in agony. Revenge however so sweet was not what the Burglar was here for, and once she was satisfied that Gin was for the moment no threat, she quickly turned to a method of disposing of the whimpering paralyzed yellow girl. Grabbing hold of Gin’s arms she dragged her back across the room to a small disposal chute, ironically the one down which Gin was supposed to abseil to the floor below, where the company president’s suite was, and complete her assignment by killing him. The lid flipped open and through the pain something in Gins subconscious registered that the drop from the chute was ten floors into the building’s basement, certain death if pushed through head first, which was what the pink girl was now doing to her. The Burglar nearly had her inside the disposal chute when her senses recovered enough for her to fumble out her punch dagger from its small sheath on her left arm, but her awkward position gave her very little to aim at.

Just as the mask had stifled Gin’s howls of anguish earlier the mask similarly let though only the dim echo of the other young woman’s torment. Bent over double as she was Gin found herself nearly thrust up to and between the firm muscled thighs of the other girl. Thus the only real target was the spandex painted shinning slippery hairless cunt of the Burglar, showing clearly through the sparkling skin-tight covering, her fully aroused clit between the two youthful love lips outlined by the coating of the glistening wet look rubber. The sharp triangular one inch blade was razor sharp and it sliced away the material to butcher at the heart of the pink Burglar’s sex, paralyzed by the agony in her groin, Gin was allowed to slash twice more before the howling woman stumbled back holding herself, trying to staunch the blood. Miraculously, as Gin had seen when she had tried on her own suit of yellow spandex, the catsuits ‘memory’ feature meant that within seconds it had nearly resealed itself, thus keeping up its chameleon effect, but this only helped keep in the blood and meat that the butcher had sliced at.

Gin slumped weeping to the floor beside the chute while the other girl stumbled her way back into the large board room both hands pressed hard into her sex, her head bent back shaking with silent screams. As Gin watched she collapsed beside the enormous sunken fish pond, fumbling at one of her belt pockets. Gin knew that even now this was not over, as the other woman gripped a small syringe in shaking hands before plunging it into her arm, and she herself followed suit by extracting a slim vial of the most potent, ‘use only in extreme circumstances’, fight drug from its container before injecting the whole lot onto her system.

The pink Amazon pulled herself up by using the sides of the large landscaped ornamental fish tank, one hand still holding in her crotch, and Gini noticed that even the special spandex could not staunch the flow of gore, and she was seeping drips of crimson down the inside legs of the catsuit. Gin staggered back to her feet before weaving her way on unsteady legs across to the other young woman, who though now upright seemed unable to move. This had to end now, and though the other girl tried to chop for the Assassin’s throat, she was immobile and could only fight with one hand, as she held her sex in with the other. When she missed with another desperate swinging fist Gin closed and enfolded her helmeted head in a neck breaker sleeper, both arms clenched tightly round the other young female’s throat, cutting off the blood supply to the brain in a rear naked choke.

Gin could only wonder at her determination as she still fought on for survival, flinging herself side ways to fall into the fish pond, but Gin just went with the moves and ended up her own body pressed hard up against her foes back, this time giving her no escape as she knelt behind the other woman, whose lower body floundered in the artificial tank. Then the pink girl started to scream. Even though she was about to be choked out, even though she was encased in a near sound proof helmet, the shrieks were loud wails of pure pain and terror. And that’s when Gin looked into the tank. She had seen many ornamental ponds of this sort in the large offices of Zaibatsu’s, usually containing prize Coi worth hundreds of thousands of Yen, but as befitting the boardroom of the European headquarters of a Yakuza baron, this one contained piranhas. The blood leaking from the sliced cunt of the Burglar had sent the inhabitants of the pond into frenzy, and even as Gin looked on horrified, three fish were fighting each other for the juicy morsels of the now mercifully unconscious female’s cunt lips and clit.

Ignoring the silent force of the drugs to ‘kill, kill, kill’, and also Fuso’s repeated begging of her to run and leave the mortally wounded girl, Arimi had dragged the loser out of the water and cut away the fish from her sex. Luckily for the pink girl Gin had fled, and now Arimi was in control. Quickly wrapping the Burglar repeatedly in heavy curtains ripped from the windows she had deposited her down the chute, feet first, giving her a chance of a soft landing.
‘Someone may find her, she does not deserve to die,’ she whispered to her worried lover, ‘and her attempted theft will distract them so that our mission will succeed’. And Arimi’s unknowing mercy saved Ichigo, paying back a debt to a girl who had saved her while she was at H High, for in the tricky world of the rival Yakuza gangs one young woman had been sent to kill and another sent to steal the secrets of the same boss on the same night. The Burglar was indeed rescued; a tall well-muscled bodyguard spotted the tempting morsel lying forlorn in the trash, paid for her medical bills and new false identity, and in return received unquestioning lesbian love from the Japanese girl.

But no good deed deserves to go unpunished, as it was the same girl who Gin had saved, Ichigo, one of her own best friends at her old college, who would destroy her, and leave her for dead only 18 months later, in a coma that had robbed her of nearly two years.
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Now…
Her mother sighed as she looked down at her little girl, to her she would always be Arimi, even if she now had hardly any resemblance to the Chinese Japanese girl she had birthed . Her daughter knelt on the floor beside the injured teenagers bed, sobbing tears into the large white pillow that sat on her lap.
‘Baka!! You are just too stupid.’ She had victimised and abandoned her daughter so many times when she was young, and yet the silly girl had still regularly sent her money, bailed her from jail, and even paid for her to get clean on three separate occasions. Arimi had never given up on her, even though she had disowned her only child on repeated occasions. She could not resist those imploring red eyes now, even if now set in a face that belonged to ‘Helen’.
‘We will find a way, so stop crying and get up off of your knees. A nurse will be coming any minute.’

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